Catch Me If You Can
by sonsofmogh
Summary: After a Quidditch accident landed Lily Potter in the hospital wing, she came to rely on the steady company of her friend, cousin, and team Captain, Louis Weasley. But just when she thought something more might be brewing between them, he shut her out. Can Lily figure out this enigmatic, frustrating boy, or will she always wonder what could've been?


A guttural scream tore out of Lily Potter's lungs as she looked down at her visibly broken leg. Pain unlike anything she'd ever felt radiated from the fracture and pummelled nerves in every corner of her body. Her broomstick forgotten, she lay in the grass of the Quidditch pitch as she struggled to breathe.

There was a commotion in the distance, but Lily couldn't force herself to hear what they were saying over the ringing in her ears. She wasn't sure which hurt worse: her leg or the knot on the back of her head from where she had fallen.

Rapidly losing her grip on consciousness, she felt herself being lifted and then floating in the air before everything went dark.

The sound of raised voices slowly dragged Lily back into the waking world, which brought with it the thrum of absolute agony. The sun streaming through the windows of the hospital wing burned her eyes; the unseasonably warm air in the room hurt; even her hair felt like it was made of pins and needles. All she wanted was to throw off her blankets and block out the sun.

Simple enough if she could actually muster the strength to move. However, her effort to relieve her discomfort only resulted in a pathetic whimper, and almost immediately, the bickering in the background stopped. A hand took hers and squeezed lightly, and Lily was delighted to find that there was at least one part of her body that didn't ache uncontrollably.

"When I get my hands on that Harper git, I'm going to smear his face on the pitch and see how he likes it."

The vehemence in Louis's voice made Lily want to smile, but she abstained, knowing that probably would hurt, as well. "Did we win?" she gasped, unable to take more than a shallow breath.

"We practically had to pry the Snitch from your hands," Louis said with a measure of pride. _Ruddy loud pride, too_, Lily thought with an internal groan, "but you got it."

"Good," she croaked as whatever sedative Madam Pomfrey had given her began to reassert itself. She gave Louis's hand the faintest squeeze before she fell back to sleep.

"— and then Professor White set a twelve inch essay on comparing the functionality of a Muggle piece of technology compared to its magical counterpart."

Looking at the mountain of books Louis had brought to her, Lily briefly wished for more Sleeping Potion before remembering how bored she was with sleeping all day. Her injuries were still not fully healed, but she could stay up for six hours at a time before the pain of the damaged nerves in her legs became too much to bear.

The only thing that kept her sane was Louis, who came to see her twice a day: once at lunch and then right after dinner. She made sure she was awake when he was due to come. He smuggled her dessert and even occasionally a wireless set so she could listen to the Quidditch league stats. The rest of her time was spent either doing homework or writing yet another owl to her parents, assuring them that she wasn't dying and that everything was okay. They remained sceptical but blissfully not on the premises.

With a sigh, Lily said, "Can we please talk about something other than schoolwork? Give a girl a chance to run away, why don't you."

Louis chuckled. "Fine, then. I got Harper back for ramming you."

"What did you do?" she asked warily, not quite sure she wanted to know.

A sly smile crept across Louis's face. "I may or may not have let a box of Decoy Detonators loose in the Slytherin locker room right when most of them hit the showers. I owled James, who was kind enough to let me borrow the Invisibility Cloak in the name of justice." With a proud nod, he added. "Of course, that there was a Duelling Club meeting on the pitch after their practice was over. A very _packed_ meeting, which was hosting famous Quidditch star James Potter. They got more of a show than they bargained for."

Lily felt compelled to chide her cousin on his method of payback, but the mental image of screaming, naked Slytherins was too much for her to contain. It started with a giggle before it escalated to a veritable gale of laughter. "Th-that is so good!" she cried between staggered breaths. "You're a genius."

"Anything for you, Lily," he said with a mock bow.

She grinned up at him, but her smile faltered when she saw his expression change. "Are you okay?"

Shaking his head, Louis said, "I'm fine. I . . . I just had a strange thought, that's all."

Though she had no idea why, Lily felt compelled to know what this thought was, but before she got a chance to ask, Louis's head swooped down and his lips pressed lightly against hers. It sent a scuttle of pleasant warmth into her limbs, but before she could snake her hand around the back of his neck to deepen this surprisingly wonderful feeling, he moved back.

They stared at each other for a moment, blinking in surprise at what had just happened. Not in a million years had Lily imagined her second kiss would be so . . . evocative compared to the bungled slobbering of her first with a handsy boy from her year, and definitely not that it would come from her cousin. But it didn't bother her if it didn't bother him. All she knew is that she hoped it wasn't the last. 

* * *

Apparently, Lily's assumption that she and Louis were 'okay' was grossly mistaken.

It wasn't until the day she was released from the hospital wing, five days after that weird afternoon with The Kiss that she saw Louis again. And that was only because they passed each other right after breakfast — not because she was under the impression that he wanted to be within a pitch's length of her. It was only due to the furious attention Louis paid to an atrociously ugly tapestry on the opposite wall of the corridor that Lily was sure he even knew she was there.

This phenomenon was not limited to that incident. She saw him as she was entering Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms, and even the bloody Gobstones Club, yet he still wouldn't look her in the eye. However, when he still wouldn't address her during Quidditch practice, much to the bewilderment of the rest of the team, Lily had had enough.

In the changing rooms after practice, while Louis was busy not sparing her a hint of a glance, Lily threw her gear into her locker and hid in one of the shower stalls casting Human Locator spells until she was sure all but one had exited. Louis was always the last one out because he was the captain, and she wanted to end this nonsense sooner rather than later.

It only took about thirty seconds for her to realise that he may not have made eye contact, but he was definitely aware of her presence.

"You can come out now, Lily," he called to her after their last teammate left.

Only mildly surprised he saw through her ruse, Lily sighed and left the showers, sitting on the bench opposite Louis. "Took you long enough."

He swept a glance at her before promptly averting his gaze to the plethora of initials carved into the wood grain next to him. "I was being ridiculous, wasn't I?"

"You say that in past tense," she scoffed, "like you aren't still doing it." She jabbed her toe into his shin just hard enough to make him wince. "Git.

Louis chuckled wanly until it slid into a sigh. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I don't know what for or what it would mean."

Lily watched typically-confident Louis fidget under her gaze like an errant child cornered by his mother and considered his words. She hadn't known what to expect him to say, but 'sorry' wasn't on the list of responses she thought she wanted to hear. He kissed her. It was unexpected, but it had also been nice. It wasn't as if she hadn't kissed a boy before; she cringed at the memory of Eric Lane in the bushes around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

Thinking back at her first and second kisses, respectively, she regretted neither. It ate at her that Louis did.

"Hey," Lily said softly before coming to her feet in front of him. She tucked her forefinger under his chin and forced him to look up at her. "You can say sorry all you want, but I'm not. It was sweet, and I liked it." At his visible gulp, she frowned. "Is it because we're cousins or something?"

His eyes opened wide. "No! Oh, _merde_, no!" Shaking his head vigorously, he said, "After blinding my mind's eye with walking in on Dom and Fred in the prefect lounge . . . there are no words. I won't be shocked by anything again." He took a deep breath. "No, I was just ashamed of myself. You're lying there, defenceless, and I just take advantage of you like that."

She blinked at his outpouring confession, unsure whether she was offended or amused as he continued to stutter out an explanation for his behaviour.

"I mean, I'm two years older than you, and I should be more responsible than to force myself on someone who can't even punch my bloody lights out if I deserve it!"

It was all Lily could do not to laugh as the latter half of Louis's maniacal rant had come out in French — a language that she and most of her cousins had learned to speak during childhood as an accessory to youthful shenanigans. A sprig of amusement in her voice, she replied, "_Il est seulement un baiser_."

Louis chortled. "I forgot you could do that." He cast her a wistful look before turning his focus once again on the oh-so-riveting grain on the bench. "Look, Lil, I . . . could we just forget it ever happened? I feel like an arse, and I don't want you to feel awkward around me." With a shiver, he added, "Especially when your dad knows where I sleep and about a hundred ways to kill me with his bare hands."

Unable to contain herself, Lily threw back her head and laughed until she could feel her face burning. "Fine."

His face losing its tension in concert with Lily's dissipating composure, Louis stood up and drew her into a hug.

The way her body folded so easily into his didn't escape her notice. Nor did the way her breath abandoned her the second she felt the pounding of his erratic heartbeat inside her own chest as an echo of her own. 

* * *

**_Three Years Later — August, 2026_**

The noise of the crowd had only dissipated slightly as Viktor Krum waved to the audience for the last time. The 430th Quidditch World Cup marked the end of Viktor Krum's remarkable 33-year professional career over the banks of the Rhine River in France's Alsace province. Even though his native Bulgaria defeated the locally favoured German National Team, not a soul in the arena begrudged him this long-awaited victory.

Well, at least Lily couldn't see anyone who didn't feel happy for Krum. Then again, she had met the man several times and even got a chance to train with him for a few weeks. Just that thought made her want to cheer harder and whoop louder than her brothers, who were both celebrating like maniacs (much to their parents' mock-embarrassment).

On a high from the buzz of the match and the roar of its spectators, Lily almost floated out of the stadium and back to her family's tent. It barely fazed her when she collided with one of the lilac-shirted security personnel — at least until she saw a familiar shock of strawberry blond hair and crystalline blue eyes attached to that lilac shirt.

"Louis, oh my god!" she shrieked as she launched into an energetic bear-hug.

His grin as wide as hers, he lifted her off her feet span her around. "_Mon dieu_, Lily!" he cried in French. "It's been years! I can't believe I haven't seen you since Hogwarts."

Lily's dad raised a questioning brow, which earned a sheepish nod from Louis and an elbow from Lily's mum. "Sorry, Uncle Harry. I haven't spoken English since I got here."

It didn't go unnoticed when Harry exhaled heavily the moment Louis set Lily down. Her eyes narrowed as she observed her father shake Louis's hand with an assuredly forced smile. "I hope you're enjoying your holiday from Auror training. Rest assured, it won't happen again."

Louis's face lit up, oblivious of Harry's wary demeanour. "It's fantastic! Security work is a bit dull, but just _being_ here is phenomenal." Animatedly, Louis clenched and unclenched his hands in a way Lily could only associate with a child on Christmas morning. "I got to meet Viktor Krum, though it was an accident, and he was inspiring. I've never met a man so thoroughly unconvinced of his fame and importance."

Harry's expression softened. "That sounds like Viktor. He never stopped trying to be the best, even when he already was. It would've been a shame if he hadn't got the Cup this year. Bulgaria finally mustered some decent Chasers this time around to give him what he worked for his whole life."

"Can I quote you on that, Auror Potter?" Ginny said with a smirk.

With a peck on her cheek, Harry replied, "Definitely, Mrs Potter."

Her stomach revolting at the image of her parents getting cosy with one another, Lily forced a short laugh and said, "I . . . think I'm going to go put some wartcap in James's pants, now."

Still engrossed in Ginny's gaze, Harry murmured, "That's nice, sweetheart. Have fun."

Lily's lips twitched as she skulked away, grabbing Louis's hand to indicate he should follow her. She thought she saw her mother glance in their direction, only to hear her loudly say, "I wonder where we should eat tonight, love."

Soon, they were successfully extracted from Lily's parents and swimming in a sea of anonymity. That's when Lily's hand darted out and slapped Louis across the face. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she cried. "I haven't heard from you in two years!"

Rubbing his now-ruddy cheek, Louis breathed deeply before shaking his head. "I know, Lily. I just wish you understood."

"What's there to understand, you big git!" She felt her hackles rising and barely resisted the urge to hit him again. "We were thick as thieves since I was in fourth year, and two months into Auror training, you don't so much as owl for years. If my dad weren't your boss, I wouldn't even know you were alive. What the hell?"

Louis rubbed his temples, his eyes squeezed shut. "It's compli —"

"If you say 'it's complicated'," Lily hissed, "so help me, I'll kick your arse." She stepped forward, her chin up defiantly despite the vast difference in their respective heights. "This is about what happened my fifth year, isn't it? When we kissed." She rolled her eyes. "I knew that excuse you came up with was bollocks."

"Damn it, Lily," Louis growled as he grabbed her shoulders roughly. "I thought we said we weren't going to talk about that."

She couldn't recall him touching her with such force before, but she had never thought he was a liar, either. What did she know. "New deal, mate. You be honest with me about it, and I won't ever bring it up again if you don't want. Hell, I'll do my best to never come within a mile of you, if that will make you happy." With a sad smile, she covered one of his hands, still digging into the flesh of her shoulders, with hers and gently massaged the veins distressed by the strain. "I just want to understand, no matter how much you think I can't or won't."

"Because I'm in love with you like some stupid little boy!" Louis shouted, drawing the attention of the previously oblivious crush of people around them. Several of them turned to stare.

Lily barely saw any of them.

The only thing she could think about was tall, strong, handsome Louis, his chest heaving as his vehement words trickled into her brain. The phrase was so absurd that she could barely comprehend those words came out of his mouth in the same sentence. She opened her mouth several times to reply, but her throat collapsed heavily upon anything that attempted to squeak through.

Louis buried his hands in his hair. "I knew you'd be like this. This is why I just wanted to —" He lapsed into angry French, mumbling to himself using vocabulary she didn't know but understood enough to get the gist of it.

_If that's what he thinks, then he really is a stupid little boy._

Almost of its own volition, her fist careened into his jaw. The impact cracked one of the bones in her hands, she knew, but she was too angry to care. "How dare you! How bloody dare you!" she shouted as he gaped at her. "You don't get to make those kinds of decisions for me, you prat. You smouldering prat." Lily seethed as she repeatedly struck Louis on the shoulder with her damaged hand.

It was only when the pain asserted itself in a nearly overwhelming wave that Lily sagged against Louis's chest. "I don't want you to go."

Louis gently lifted her broken hand and feathered a soft kiss on her purpling knuckles. "I . . . I thought it would bother you, that it would make you uncomfortable if you found out, and I couldn't stand the thought of you hating me."

"But I don't hate you," Lily mumbled into his now-moist shirt. "I didn't know what I felt, except I was really hoping you'd kiss me again so I could work it out."

The hand that had been absently stroking her hair stilled. "What?"

"This is why you talk about these things, you numpty! How are you supposed to know if we could work together if we don't get together?" Lily said as she struck him one more time with her injured limb, only to launch into a colourful tirade of her own — albeit in English.

Lily nearly hit him again when he started laughing. Not a chuckle, but a deep, breath-stealing belly laugh that makes any person in its throes look like a lunatic to anyone else who doesn't get the joke. But she did. She got the joke, all right, and it the two of them and their three year dance around each other. It didn't take long before they were both cackling madly.

The look on her parents' faces when they caught up to Lily and Louis were almost enough to set them off again: Harry's expression was one of bewilderment, and Ginny's one of cheekiness.

"I think I should, um, help Lily to the med-tent," Louis stammered as he backed away from the Potters.

With an eyeroll, Lily said, "You should try the Jaw-Softening tent next time. Punching you should be rewarded. A national sport, even."

Harry's eyes narrowed, which made Lily snort. "Don't be so old-fashioned, Daddy. Yes, we kissed, and yes, we'll probably do it again. Get over it."

Her lips curled into a smile as she gingerly looped her arms around the back of Louis's neck to pull his head down to hers. "Now, don't you dare run off again. I'm not finished with you yet." 

* * *

Neither of them saw the small stack of Galleons Harry dropped into Ginny's waiting hand while glowering at his wife. "How did you know?"

Ginny shook her head and mumbled, "Men. So clueless."

"Hey!"

Sneaking a kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth. "Relax, Harry. That's why you've got us. Someone has to talk some sense into you when you can't tell your face from your own arse."

Harry opened his mouth to refute but promptly snapped his jaw shut, settling instead on staring daggers at the boy kissing his daughter. "I still don't like it."

"You never will," Ginny said patiently. "She's our baby. Now we might get _grand_babies soon."

"Bite your tongue, woman!" Snapping out of his brooding reverie, Harry hissed, "I'll murder him in his sleep. Bill will understand."

Ginny chuckled. "Not unless you fancy sleeping on the couch, dear," she sighed as she steered her cranky husband back towards their tent, leaving their daughter alone in her first flush of young love.


End file.
